The Cost of a Flight
by Paulina Ann
Summary: Response to an HDA Writing Challenge of "Frank or Joe's Terrible, Awful, No Good, Very Bad Day." This how I picture Joe having a bad day... or two. Stand alone story.


**The Cost of a Flight**

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own the Hardy Boys or any of the book characters.

 **Rating/Setting:** Rating is T. Setting is kinda Clues Brothers and Casefiles.

 **Beta:** Thanks Wendylouwho10 – she reads for flow and storyline, spelling/grammar errors are mine.

 **Author's Notes** : Response to an HDA Writing Challenge of "Frank or Joe's Terrible, Awful, No Good, Very Bad Day." Challenge theme was almost the same as the title of a very popular children's book. Just one word different. I kept the Australia theme.

**Please note that this is a stand alone story and not part of a story arc.

***And yes, I am working on another story in my 'Taken' timeline. I'm on chapter 12 and am just moving slowly but I am moving. I just get a little distracted. :-)

.**********.

 _Maybe I should just move to Australia_ , thought thirteen year old Joe Hardy as he put gloved fingers to his puffy eye. It was certain to be black by the time he got home. _They speak English in Australia. Shouldn't be that difficult to fit in._

"Running away Hardy?" a voice yelled from behind him.

Joe turned to face his tormentor and took a snowball directly to the face. He sputtered as he wiped it away but three more soon coated his face. He gave up on confronting the bullies and decided that a dignified retreat was best at this time. Dignity soon lost out though as Joe lost his balance on the icy sidewalk and fell forward on his hands and knees. Whatever shred of dignity he may have had left was lost as a car drove past and splashed muddy, salty water from the road over him.

Laughter echoed from behind him as he sat back on his knees and used his gloves to wipe at water that was running down his face. "See you tomorrow, Joe! Maybe tomorrow your girlfriend won't beat you up!"

Joe knew that his tormentors would be gone now and he could make his way home in peace. Standing carefully, he took in the ripped knees of his pants and his generally bedraggled appearance. He shook his head. No way would his brother and father believe that he had just fallen; he wasn't _that_ klutzy. His mom might be convinced as she always looked for the good in people and would want to believe it was just a slippery patch of sidewalk but not Frank and not dad.

Settling his book bag on his back again, he began to take slow painful steps toward home. He would be late getting there but that gave him time to think back on the day and figure out what he would tell his family. As his thoughts went back, he once again thought that Australia wasn't sounding bad at all.

.**********.

That morning…

Laura gave both Frank and Joe a kiss on the cheek as she dropped them off in the parking lot at the school. Joe tried to avoid it but he couldn't hurt his mother's feelings when she reached out to pull him in for a kiss. From the corner of Joe's eye he could already see the smirks on the faces of some of his classmates. But Joe knew he was safe as he walked into school with his brother Frank. Frank was six inches taller than Joe and probably three inches taller than most of the guys in Joe's class. Frank also took karate, so no one was going to mess with Joe while Frank was there. But the rest of the day and the walk home were different stories.

"See you at home, Joe," Frank called as he headed down the 8th grade hall.

"See ya," Joe said with a squeak to Frank's retreating back. He felt a bump from behind.

"Sounding like a girl, Joe," Jason said as he moved to stand in front of Joe.

A lot of the guys had their voices change in sixth grade. But Joe's voice had just started cracking last week- over halfway through 7th grade. Several of the guys found it funny to pick on the shorter boy whose voice was just starting to change.

Joe endured several jokes at his expense as he made his way to homeroom. Things would get better there as most of the bullies were in other classes and he had a friend in homeroom. _Iola_ , he thought with a smile. Even when his day started off crappy, she'd be there with a kind word and a smile when he entered the room.

As he went into homeroom, his eyes immediately searched for Iola. But when he found her, there was no smile or kind word, but a piece of paper shoved in his face.

"What do you mean by this, Joe?" she asked angrily as she grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to the back of the room.

"What?" he asked in confusion.

"This!" She waved the paper again in his face.

He glanced around as several classmates were starting to turn toward them giggling and pointing. "Let me see," he huffed and grabbed the paper. His eyes scanned the words and his face turned beet red as Iola snatched it away.

"It was going around the room, Joe!" she said with angry tears in her eyes. "Carrie said that Skylar said that-"

This time Joe was angry. "Are you going to believe that gossip over me? I didn't say any of those- those things!" he stuttered thinking back to the sexual innuendos that were written on the paper. At that moment Rashon walked by and blew Iola a kiss and winked at her.

"Class be seated," the teacher called and Joe's chance to straighten things out was at an end.

"What a start to the day," Joe muttered as he slid into his seat.

And the day didn't get much better. He had forgotten his math homework and he couldn't concentrate on his history test for thinking about Iola. At lunch his thermos had leaked and he had a soggy sandwich and no drink. During science class, Jason sat a couple of rows behind him and was constantly hitting him in the back of the head with paper balls.

Finally, the day ended and Joe rushed to the bus lot to find Iola before she could board. He needed to get things straight with her.

"Wait, Iola!" he called as he ran up behind her. She didn't stop so he grabbed her arm.

"Don't you-!" Iola said as she suddenly stopped and threw her arm back. "Oh!" she exclaimed as her elbow connected with Joe's face.

Immediately Joe let go of her arm and grabbed his eye as students passing them laughed at the pair. "Ow!"

"Oh, Joe! I'm sorry!" Iola cried as she turned to face him.

She was peering close at his face when he was able to blink his eyes open. "Need to talk to you, Iola. I didn't say those things!" How he wished his voice wasn't changing or that it would already be over!

"Your eye is swelling, Joe!"

But Joe didn't care about the eye. "I didn't, Iola. You've got to believe me!"

The bus horn sounded and Iola said, "I've got to go. I'll call you tonight."

Joe realized it was the best he was going to get for now. "Okay." He watched her board the bus and then made his way to the sidewalk to start his walk of shame home.

Now, with his black eye, skinned knees, and dirty clothes, Joe made his way home. He stopped and pulled out his cell phone that was for emergencies and used it to look up prices on flights to Australia. Looking at the cost, he simply said, "Bummer," and put the phone back in his pocket and continued home. Moving to Australia wasn't an option, so he'd just have to stay in Bayport.

It might have been a terrible, awful, no good, very bad day but he would talk to his dad and Iola. Tomorrow would be different.

.**********.

4 years later…

Joe Hardy had changed a lot over the last four years. He had had a growth spurt that started at the end of 7th grade and he now stood as tall as or taller than most boys in his grade. He had also put on a lot of muscle and was no longer the skinny kid in class. Bullies were no longer a problem for him, but as he trudged through woods on his way back to the campsite, his thoughts drifted back four years to the time he had thought moving to Australia would solve his problems.

 _Maybe the price of a flight has gone down_ , he thought to himself.

The day had started off promising with a weekend camping trip to the local state park with his brother. They wanted to get an early start and had packed the van the night before. Joe had insisted that his mom sleep in; he and Frank could just grab a quick breakfast and then be on their way. Their mom had begrudgingly agreed as their father smiled. But that wasn't to be. Joe had put the pop tarts in the toaster and something went wrong. They weren't sure what happened, only that smoke billowed from the unit in dark clouds that seemed to find their way immediately to the smoke detector. The blaring, shrill sound soon had everyone in the kitchen as Frank used a fire extinguisher on the toaster.

"Sorry," Joe had coughed as he helped open windows to let the smoke out.

"Try not to start a forest fire," Frank had joked once they had helped clean up and eaten.

Thankfully, they had gotten away from the house with no further problems. However, they didn't make it to their destination without incident. Not far from the park Joe drove through some debris on the road that he couldn't avoid. Very quickly the boys realized they had a flat. After pulling off the road, they checked the tire.

"Fix-a-flat won't work on that," Joe said with a heavy sigh as he looked at the tire.

"You know what this means, don't you?" Frank asked with a raised eyebrow.

"We've got to change it?" Joe asked with a puzzled tone.

Frank rolled his eyes. "Yes. Now think about that."

Joe only took a moment to think and then closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and let out a loud grown. "We've got to empty most of the van to get to the compartment that has the tire and jack."

"Exactly," Frank said with a grin. "Bet you wish you hadn't packed all that gear now."

Opening the back of the van, Joe surveyed all the things that he had insisted they bring. Frank had wanted to do primitive camping, but Joe had wanted the large tent, another shelter, camping chairs, the grill, additional pads for under the sleeping bags, and the list went on. "I'll take it out," he said dejectedly.

"No, I'll help you, but you can change the tire," Frank said with another grin.

"Deal," Joe replied as he started the task of removing things from the van.

Almost an hour later they were on the move again with Frank driving and Joe holding a bag of ice from the cooler to his bruised knuckles. The tire iron had slipped off a lug nut and unbalanced, Joe had pitched forward driving his right hand down into the rocky soil on the side of the road. His scraped and bruised knuckles were still throbbing even after the ice and some pain relievers.

At the campsite, Joe's woes continued.

Frank looked at the lopsided tent with irritation. Joe was looking anywhere but at his brother.

"I believe you packed up the tent after the last trip," Frank said as he crossed his arms. "Can you tell me what happened to the missing tent pole?"

Joe stared at the ground for a moment. "I think I packed it with the tote that had the extra tent stakes."

"And did you pack the tote with the extra tent stakes?"

Finally looking over to his brother, Joe simply said, "No."

Frank uncrossed his arms and threw them up in irritation. "You pack _everything_ but the kitchen sink but somehow neglect that important piece of equipment." He shook his head as he turned toward his gear. "I'm not even going to ask _why_ you packed the tent pole in with the extra stakes instead of the tent bag." He turned to give Joe a scathing look, "You know; the bag where you pack ALL of the tent parts?"

"Look, I'm sorry," Joe said in a pleading voice. "I'll sleep over on that side." He spared a glance to where the tent drooped inelegantly.

"I won't argue there." Frank said as he turned to his gear once again. "But I'm telling you if one of those supposed 'isolated showers' happens to come our way overnight I'm heading to the van and you can be the one to get the water out of the tent."

Seeing that his brother was out of sorts from all the mishaps of the day, Joe said, "I'll go get some wood for the fire."

Frank looked up from his backpack to survey the area. "Doesn't look like there's much around here. You'll probably have to walk a ways to find some."

"Not a problem," Joe said as he moved away from the site. They had picked a more rustic section of the campground that required a bit of walking to the restroom/bath house and it didn't have any electric hook-ups. Most campers liked to be closer to the amenities located in the center of the campground and that suited the boys just fine. There were only two other campsites in use in this section. The more rustic sites added to the cool temps and threats of showers seemed to have kept people away.

However, even with the rustic setting there must have been a number of recent campers as there was almost no downed wood for him to scavenge. And downed wood was the only type they were allowed to collect and use at their site unless they had brought their own. Joe muttered to himself, "I can't go back empty-handed." Frank had wanted to bring in a bundle of wood 'just in case' but Joe had argued that they should spend their money on food, not on wood when they could just pick that up around the site. Now the thought of having some wood with them was starting to look like a good idea. "I wonder what campgrounds look like in Australia." Joe smiled to himself. It was definitely an awful, terrible day. He'd just have to see if it was also no good and very bad as well.

He had walked at least a hundred yards away from the campground and had finally gotten what he considered a decent amount of wood when he decided he could head back. As he began his trip back he realized that carrying that much wood wasn't a walk in the park. The wood shifted awkwardly and when he attempted to move a stick that was poking him in the neck, he missed the partially covered log in front of him. Tripping over the log, the bundle in his arms was dropped causing Joe to stumble even more. Letting out a few colorful words, he stumbled shoulder first into a tree trunk. The force of his fall shook the tree so that a few remaining leaves floated down. Pushing himself upright, Joe grabbed his shoulder.

"I think I'll look for an Australian campground without trees," he muttered as he rubbed his throbbing joint. His pain was quickly forgotten as he heard a distinct and terrifying sound: buzzing… angry buzzing. Joe quickly scanned the branches overhead and saw his fear confirmed. A swarm of yellowjackets were coming out of a hanging nest and they were heading his way.

The wood was forgotten as Joe took off in the direction that would get him closer to the campsite but wouldn't take him and the following insects into it. Hopefully, they would give up before he tired or fell. _Now THAT is a cheery thought after the day I've had._ "Ow!" he yelled as he continued running and tried to brush a yellowjacket from his arm. "Ow!" he said again as it stung him once again before he got it off. Several more cries of pain escaped his lips before the swarm left him alone.

Joe staggered over to a fallen log and eased himself down. His breathing was ragged and he was tired from his run through the forest. "I guess I should be glad the temperature isn't that warm," he said out loud. "It could have been worse." Joe felt along his right arm: two stings. He couldn't reach his back but he was sure there were at least two there. The sting on his neck felt really bad, but the worst one was the one on his face. He had brushed one of the insects from his neck only to realize he had transferred it to his face where it stung him right below his left eye on his cheek.

Realizing that touching the stings wasn't making them feel any better, he dropped his hand and looked around. After getting his bearings, he began to search around for wood in the immediate area. There was NO WAY he was going back to the tree that was home to a swarm of yellowjackets. Joe shook his head as he looked around; the pickings were even slimmer in this area. Once he finally gotten a decent load, he turned for the campsite.

So Joe was now headed back to the camp with thoughts of Australia. But those thoughts were pushed to the side as he began figuring out how to explain to Frank the stings and his less than prime pick of wood. With his thoughts elsewhere, Joe wasn't focused on where he was walking. Stepping on the side of a rock, his ankle turned. For a moment he thought he'd drop all the wood he had picked up but with a few staggering steps and some truly spectacular juggling he was still upright and holding all the wood. "Crap," Joe muttered as he moved to lean against a nearby tree. He carefully rotated his ankle as he looked down around the wood in his arms. "Crap," he muttered again. "Not broken…" rotate some more "not sprained…." Joe sighed. "Just a heck of a lot of pain." He stood away from the tree and put weight on his ankle. "Not too bad." He took a step and grimaced, "But not the best either." Knowing he just needed to grin and bear it, Joe continued his trek to the camp.

"Stings, crappy firewood, hurt ankle… Yeah, that's right Frank. It all happened." Joe was already practicing his speech for Frank, because he knew that his brother was going to be all over this incident. _He'll probably even text the guys_ , Joe thought with irritation. After the morning they'd had, this would just be icing on the cake.

Once again, he was distracted and was almost in sight of the camp when he heard yelling. Joe paused.

"I'm telling you, I don't know where your bag of cash is!" Frank yelled.

 _Bag of money? At our campsite? Seriously, this can only happen to us_ , Joe thought as he closed his eyes and shook his head. Opening his eyes, he continued to listen as he quietly put his wood on the ground. He could figure out two other voices although they were nowhere near as loud as Frank. But then Frank was trying to warn him; the men in the camp might not even realize that Frank had someone with him. _Time to call for the cavalry_. Joe reached into his pocket for his cell phone and then groaned aloud. "You've got to be freaking kidding me," he said in an angry hushed whisper. Somewhere along his wood gathering route was his cell phone. _Probably fell out while I was running from those yellowjackets. Well, Plan A is out. Time for Plan B._

Joe continued to listen to the voices as he reached down to take the one sturdy piece of wood that he had gathered. It was just over two feet long and was about two inches in diameter. Moving carefully toward the cleared pathway to the camp, Joe continued to listen. But except for Frank's occasionally loud comment, he could hear little until he got closer. Thankfully the path was free of crackling dead leaves so Joe was able to move all the way to the camp undetected as the camp-crashers continued to threaten Frank.

"We left it right next to this tree here," one of the men said. He was standing with a hand on a knife and the other pushing Frank against the tree.

"I never saw it!" Frank replied loudly. "How many times do I have to say it?"

"Benny, I think maybe we should take this young man back to the car with us. Maybe ask him again later. Maybe then he'll remember," the second man said as he took a step toward Benny and Frank.

"That would be kidnapping and you really don't want to have those charges-" Frank began.

"What we want is OUR MONEY!" Benny yelled in Frank's face.

Then the other crook chimed in, "And if we can't have our money, then we'll have you."

Joe had finally reached the camp and he knew that Frank had seen him. _Now to throw them off-balance_. It was just an unspoken understanding between the brothers that Frank would take Benny and Joe would take out the other guy. Joe bounced lightly on the balls of his feet as he readied for his charge. "Wrong brother!" Joe yelled as he raced forward, the pain in his ankle forgotten in the adrenalin rush.

The men spun around. Joe only had a glimpse of Frank disarming Benny as he himself rushed the other man. In a tackle worthy of an all-state lineman, Joe hit the man in his midsection and took him to the ground. In less than a minute, the fight was over; his opponent had the breath knocked out of him and then a few punches from Joe did the rest. He rolled to the side and looked over to see Frank sitting on Benny's back and the knife several yards away from both of them. "You okay?" he asked his brother.

"Yeah," Frank said as he looked over to Joe. "You?"

"I've been better," Joe replied as he fell back to lie on the ground; his ankle now throbbing in time with his shoulder. He could see Frank's puzzled look as Benny started making useless threats. Knowing that he needed to get up and find some zip ties to restrain the men, Joe pushed himself up with a groan. "Please tell me that we DID bring the tote with the zip ties.

Frank laughed and said, "To the right of the tent. It's in with the extra rope, bungees, and duct tape."

"Figures," Joe said as he limped over. He could feel Frank's gaze on him. Grabbing the ties from the tote he went back to the man on the ground and secured his hands and then headed over to Frank.

Once Benny was secure, Frank asked, "The police on their way?"

Joe flushed. "No."

"No?"

"I lost my phone getting the wood."

Quickly pulling out his own phone, Frank made the call to the police. As he put his phone away, Frank took a step closer to his brother. "Hey, what's that on your face?"

"I located a nest of yellowjackets," Joe said with a wry grin.

"And your limp?"

"Stepped wrong on a rock coming back."

Frank gave a small smile and said, "Sit down. I'll get some ice from the cooler for your ankle and I'll see if there's anything for those stings."

"Thanks, Frank."

A couple of hours later, Frank and Joe were finally alone in their camp. They had called their parents and convinced them they were okay and that they wanted to finish out the weekend. It had taken some convincing, but Fenton and Laura had agreed.

Joe looked at the crackling fire in front of him and the nice pile of wood to the side. The park service had happily gathered some wood for the teenagers in appreciation for apprehending the thieves.

The camp chair beside him creaked as Frank sat down and handed him a soda. "So what did you mean?"

"What?" Joe asked in confusion. "Mean about what?"

"You yelled 'wrong brother' when you tackled that guy. I'm asking what you meant by that."

Joe looked at Frank and laughed. "Seriously, with the day I'd been having, it was obvious that if anyone should have been kidnapped, it should have been me."

Frank laughed with his brother. "Well, the day is winding down and I'll be happy for tomorrow. Today has been terrible."

Joe gazed into the fire and said, "Awful."

"No good."

"Very bad," Joe added with a growing smile.

"Quite a day," Frank added playfully.

Joe closed his eyes and leaned his head back. "I think I'll move to Australia." A laugh from Frank caused him to open his eyes. "What? I can fit in."

Frank shook his head. "It's not that, little brother. You can't afford it. Have you seen the cost of a flight to Australia?"

With that, both brothers laughed.


End file.
